it's raing and blowing here today ANNA,ANNA wrote: Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days’ worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out.
~Ryokan
jeff j wrote:ANNA wrote: Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days’ worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out.
~Ryokan
it's raing and blowing here today ANNA,
i was just out in it,
pruning back the forsythia hedge
at the great grandparent's place,
it grows over into their long driveway,
a man walked past,
my age,
shriveled looking,
carrying a 12 pack of beer, 9am,
and says:
"nasty weather for that kind of work"
and i say back:
i must be crazy,
i like days like this...
we each thought the other was crazy,
what a wild and wonderous world it is...
jeff j wrote:here's a nice one ANNA,
we read a book with our son, age 8,
titled Home of The Brave,
a story about a young child's view
of immigrating to U.S.
from Sudan, after losing his whole family
to war and violence,
but is it poetic and beautiful,
and he's reading it for the third time,
and last night he said to me,
when we first read it,
i cried, a bunch of times,
but i don't know why,
and i kind of hid my tears for you and mama...
and is said,
i cried too, (with tears in my eyes just then
at the beauty of his young words of feeling~realizations)
i cried sometimes, he said,
just because ifelt so happy,
and sometimes when i felt so sad,
and sometimes i don't why i cried,
i just did...
toombaru wrote:jeff j wrote:here's a nice one ANNA,
we read a book with our son, age 8,
titled Home of The Brave,
a story about a young child's view
of immigrating to U.S.
from Sudan, after losing his whole family
to war and violence,
but is it poetic and beautiful,
and he's reading it for the third time,
and last night he said to me,
when we first read it,
i cried, a bunch of times,
but i don't know why,
and i kind of hid my tears for you and mama...
and is said,
i cried too, (with tears in my eyes just then
at the beauty of his young words of feeling~realizations)
i cried sometimes, he said,
just because ifelt so happy,
and sometimes when i felt so sad,
and sometimes i don't why i cried,
i just did...
That really is beautiful.
And old toombaru likes stories as much as the next fellow.
The more dramatic......the more heroic....the story......the more we like it.
But.............It is the personal story that is so seductive......and the glue that binds the dream of separation.
We pay actors enormous sums of money to make us believe the story........We will defend our personal story to the death.......(for one very good reason).
It is simply the love of being that feeds the dream.........The story of self.
toombaru
jeff j wrote:toombaru wrote:jeff j wrote:here's a nice one ANNA,
we read a book with our son, age 8,
titled Home of The Brave,
a story about a young child's view
of immigrating to U.S.
from Sudan, after losing his whole family
to war and violence,
but is it poetic and beautiful,
and he's reading it for the third time,
and last night he said to me,
when we first read it,
i cried, a bunch of times,
but i don't know why,
and i kind of hid my tears for you and mama...
and is said,
i cried too, (with tears in my eyes just then
at the beauty of his young words of feeling~realizations)
i cried sometimes, he said,
just because ifelt so happy,
and sometimes when i felt so sad,
and sometimes i don't why i cried,
i just did...
That really is beautiful.
And old toombaru likes stories as much as the next fellow.
The more dramatic......the more heroic....the story......the more we like it.
But.............It is the personal story that is so seductive......and the glue that binds the dream of separation.
We pay actors enormous sums of money to make us believe the story........We will defend our personal story to the death.......(for one very good reason).
It is simply the love of being that feeds the dream.........The story of self.
toombaru
this "story" feels like the glue
that binds two into one...
first another is recognized,
then by association the other
is felt as me,
by this thought~feeling we become
one, but only for a moment...
but then
maybe
that's long enough
"It is the personal story that is so seductive......and the glue that binds the dream of separation"toombaru wrote:jeff j wrote:here's a nice one ANNA,
we read a book with our son, age 8,
titled Home of The Brave,
a story about a young child's view
of immigrating to U.S.
from Sudan, after losing his whole family
to war and violence,
but is it poetic and beautiful,
and he's reading it for the third time,
and last night he said to me,
when we first read it,
i cried, a bunch of times,
but i don't know why,
and i kind of hid my tears for you and mama...
and is said,
i cried too, (with tears in my eyes just then
at the beauty of his young words of feeling~realizations)
i cried sometimes, he said,
just because ifelt so happy,
and sometimes when i felt so sad,
and sometimes i don't why i cried,
i just did...
That really is beautiful.
And old toombaru likes stories as much as the next fellow.
The more dramatic......the more heroic....the story......the more we like it.
But.............It is the personal story that is so seductive......and the glue that binds the dream of separation.
We pay actors enormous sums of money to make us believe the story........We will defend our personal story to the death.......(for one very good reason).
It is simply the love of being that feeds the dream.........The story of self.
toombaru
sound like two views about glue...empty-and-full wrote: What if this glue is really a corrosively beautiful appearance that melts everything away.
Personal story... like a lifetime of conditioning, not so much seductive, as annoyingly persistantjeff j wrote:what if (nobody) wrote:
"It is the personal story that is so seductive......and the glue that binds the dream of separation"
But where would I be without it... can anyone life afresh in each moment, a mystery even to themselves?angela wrote:Personal story... like a lifetime of conditioning, not so much seductive, as annoyingly persistantjeff j wrote:what if (nobody) wrote:
"It is the personal story that is so seductive......and the glue that binds the dream of separation"
Cool post jeff.jeff j wrote:what if (nobody) wrote:
"It is the personal story that is so seductive......and the glue that binds the dream of separation"
what if (somebody) read:
"It is the personal story that is so seductive......and the glue that binds the dream of separation"
sound like two views about glue...empty-and-full wrote: What if this glue is really a corrosively beautiful appearance that melts everything away.
sticky situation, which one to agree with?
what if glue is what is used after something is broken?
what to use when someone is broken,
or has just come unglued?
"delaminating" is what jim harris calls it...
why would we want to relaminate?
maybe this self / illusory self is both processes,
laminating & unlaminating,
peeling off layers, and adding new ones...
the ultimate unpeeling (inferred)
would be to arrive at the last layer,
unpeel it, and disolve ino the unlayer,
the layerless layer, the super-peeled...
if that one,
that layerless layered one,
blending and disolving in the infinite
nothingness of unpeeled nirvana...
if that one cares or desires to interact
with any other one who is still layered,
wouldn't that unlayered one need to layer on
at least one (very thin) layer?
how can nobodyness interact with somebodyness,
nothingness with somethingness,
unpeeled with peeled?
language is a layer of interaction...
any layer, one layer on nothingness is
enough to make it something,
to separate it from it's hidden source,
everyone in here, who writes a single word,
has taken on a layer,
only for a moment perhaps,
but there is no other way it can be...
or is there?
or maybe the dream,empty-and-full wrote:Cool post jeff.jeff j wrote:what if (nobody) wrote:
"It is the personal story that is so seductive......and the glue that binds the dream of separation"
what if (somebody) read:
"It is the personal story that is so seductive......and the glue that binds the dream of separation"
sound like two views about glue...empty-and-full wrote: What if this glue is really a corrosively beautiful appearance that melts everything away.
sticky situation, which one to agree with?
what if glue is what is used after something is broken?
what to use when someone is broken,
or has just come unglued?
"delaminating" is what jim harris calls it...
why would we want to relaminate?
maybe this self / illusory self is both processes,
laminating & unlaminating,
peeling off layers, and adding new ones...
the ultimate unpeeling (inferred)
would be to arrive at the last layer,
unpeel it, and disolve ino the unlayer,
the layerless layer, the super-peeled...
if that one,
that layerless layered one,
blending and disolving in the infinite
nothingness of unpeeled nirvana...
if that one cares or desires to interact
with any other one who is still layered,
wouldn't that unlayered one need to layer on
at least one (very thin) layer?
how can nobodyness interact with somebodyness,
nothingness with somethingness,
unpeeled with peeled?
language is a layer of interaction...
any layer, one layer on nothingness is
enough to make it something,
to separate it from it's hidden source,
everyone in here, who writes a single word,
has taken on a layer,
only for a moment perhaps,
but there is no other way it can be...
or is there?
signed, the unpeeled one.
Or is it the completely peeled one?
